Embrace the Future Snowfall
by DemonUntilDeath
Summary: OneYear Anniversary of Embrace the Winter Snow: Companion Peice. The Demon's Hangout survived a week without Kurama, but it's time for him to go back.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho, but I do own _Embrace the Winter Snow_

**Notes**:

ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF THE COMPLETION OF _Embrace the Winter Snow_!!!!

I thought you guys could use a little wrap up on this momentous occasion for me – if you're still interested, of course!

((might include a second of Kuwabara and his purple tree, if it's requested and/or desired))

Enjoy.

((sorry, KyoHana, I didn't have you beta it because I wanted it to be a surprise.))

**-o-o-o-**

_**Embrace the Future Snowfall **_

_A Companion Piece_

**-o-o-o-**

It was white.

It was all so very white.

But maybe that wasn't so horrible anymore. That which lay above him, reflected in his crystalline green eyes, was the white of a snowy sky. Stormy clouds that lost their darkness to the small flecks of purity that drifted down moved across the heavens at a serene pace, proving to the redhead far below that there was nothing to rush forward to.

_Enjoy the moment_, they said. _Enjoy lying beneath our fluffy ranks and let yourself be cried upon by our frozen joys._

Kurama smiled gently up at the heavens that called out to him, leaving their trails to fall softly upon his face in a touch of coldness that brought a sense of warmth to him. The clouds continued to pass far above in contented silence and he watched them for moments longer.

Then, slowly, he moved his arms from their position, lying perpendicular to his body. Ever so meticulously, he brought them down to his sides, feeling the small, cold particles bunch between the cloth of his jacket. He left a small little dune of snow, only reaching a foot and a half in length as he raised his hands back up to a slightly further point beyond perpendicular, perhaps a forty degree angle in accordance to his head.

He repeated the motion several times, each slow and carefully constructed.

A smile spread across his face as he spread his legs apart, each moving away from their earlier position to push the snow aside from the thin cloth of his black pants. He pulled them gently back in after only a few inches, grinning at the cold that formed down the length of his legs.

He repeated the motions again, each time grinning like a child during Christmas.

With one last movement of his legs, Kurama finally sat up, climbing out of the snow bank. He had to work hard not to ruin the impressions he had made with random handprints or the slip up of a leg. Rising to his feet with minimal damage to his recent creation, the fox began dusting the snow off of his black coat, most of which had protected him from the shivers of his activities.

Turning, Kurama looked down at his accomplishment and smiled.

A snow angel.

The soft rustle of fabric on the wind tickled at his ears and he turned, green eyes searching out the red he knew were there. He found them atop the roof of the neighboring building, watching him intently and protectively.

Accompanied by a gentle smile, he gave a soft, loving wave to the fire demon perched on the building. It was his own guardian angel.

With that thought, he looked back down at the imprint he had left in the heart of the snow.

A snow angel.

Maybe snow could be angelic, he thought, if you knew how to look at it.

His smile spread a little more and Kurama turned back to the buildings that lined the street. Gripping the clouded metal handle, he pulled open a large and worn wooden door. The deep moan emitted by this guardian was a familiar and welcoming sound that warmed his chilling body and only increased the happiness prescribed upon his face.

Not one foot had made it into the establishment before the occupants within had noticed. Twenty or so heads rose to take notice of the newcomer, and their voices rang out in a garbled mess of synchronization.

"Kurama!" most shouted, though bits and pieces of other added language could be detected among the jargon. A grin that bore similar resemblance to a sheepish child greeted for his tenth birthday broke over the welcomed party.

Before he could do more than simply close the door from the chilly wind outside, a hand clapped him heavily on the back, nearly taking his fragile body to the ground with its force. Kigane shook him, once more clasping the redhead in a firm headlock that Kurama tried to meekly release himself from.

"K'rama!" Kigane shouted, his breath heavily stained with the scents of beer and peanuts. "How' ya be'n, man?"

The fox's fingers twitched in readiness to answer his question when his movement paused. He wanted desperately to tell his friends that he was wonderful, to tell them with his own voice.

He could do it – if he just moved his lips as he sent out the mental voice, the humans would never have the perception to notice the difference. He could pull it off – especially if he practiced distances and volume control and got better at it, but…

But then he would need a cover story as to why a torn larynx was suddenly and miraculously repaired.

No, his ability to lie to them was as able as their ability to detect his lie, which basically meant that both parties sucked at lying and detecting said lies.

He looked around at the faces that stared back at him – the couple from a week ago was waving enthusiastically at him; the men he'd grown to call friends, despite their drunken repartees, all looking in earnest; Aoshi grinning and waving a wash towel that he had previously been using to dry beer mugs; Kigane still shaking the redhead within his headlock.

They were all there, waiting for his return like they said they would be a week ago, before everything had changed.

No… he wouldn't lie to them like that – he would wait. He would talk to them with his real voice one day – perhaps not in this lifetime but surely in the next.

With a trademark smile, Kurama raised his hand and told them he was wonderful.

**-o-o-o-**

_**End**_

**-o-o-o-**


End file.
